You're an Idiot Beilschmidt: A Saga
by King Dave of Blingees
Summary: "Love you too, Kirkland." PrUK drabbles, semi-chronological.
1. Installment 1

The sun was out. A pleasant rolled by. Little birds twittered and twatted away. One could say that it was a rather nice day. Arthur Kirkland might have agreed had he not, when taking a cup of tea and the day's newspaper out to the garden, found an uninvited guest sleeping there.

Kick.

"Beilschmidt, why the hell are you in my garden?"

Kick.

A groan was heard as the albino rolled over.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Kick.

"Ach. Halt deinen Fuß."

"English, please."

Kick.

He was really just being a dick about it at this point. He knew it, too.

"Stop it."

"I don't take orders from lumps on my lawn."

Kick.

Now that he felt a bruise forming, Gilbert decided it was time to get up. Grudgingly, he did just that and faced the man with a trigger foot. However, as he opened his mouth to explain himself, he was abruptly cut off.

"Now, while I'm sure whatever excuse you have is absolutely riveting, I don't quite care to hear it. I'd rather you just leave, honestly."

"Come on, Kirkland, do I have to? I just came to see you, is all."

Cue 'charming' grin.

"Beilschmidt, you're an idiot."


	2. Installment 2

"I've been expecting you, Beilschmidt."

Gilbert stood in the doorway, a bit unsure. Arthur had been _expecting_ him. He figured the guy might assume he'd pop up eventually, but not _expect_ him. Right now, one Arthur Kirkland was sitting at the head of his dining room table, hands folded in front of him with a look on his face that said he had been plotting whatever was to happen next for some time now. It was implied that it wouldn't be pleasant for him.

"Staring dumbly, I see." Slow and calculated, Arthur stood up and approached Gilbert. Then he jabbed the man in the chest. "Stand up straight. Today, Beilschmidt, I am putting you through a crash course in etiquette."

"The fuck, Kirkland."

"How horribly eloquent." Arthur paused to jab Gilbert into standing straight again. "I do detest to associate myself with those who cannot present themselves properly."

"The fuck, Kirkland."

"This is exactly why this needs to be done, Beilschmidt. You can't even properly express yourself."

Shaking himself out of his dumbfounded state, Gilbert moves to make an intelligent reply. "I don't need etiquette lessons. I've had to learn all that stuff for court shit a long time ago."

In response, Gilbert received another jab in the chest. "Beilschmidt I swear to God, if you don't start straightening that spine of yours I am going to shove a broom handle down your throat."

The albino then decided it would be a good idea to stand straight for the rest of his visit.

"Good."

Gilbert thought Arthur almost looked pleased with himself.

"Now, Beilschmidt, you and I are going to have afternoon tea."

He almost gulped.

"Come along, Beilschmidt. I know that you do so enjoy standing about like an idiot, but there is tea to be had."

The Brit has already started walking, and Gilbert had to take a few long strides to catch up. "Are we seriously doing this?"

"Indeed we are. And properly, might I add." A sharp glance was sent to the Prussian. "Prepare yourself."

This man is the only guy capable of even getting him remotely flustered, he swears.

Soon, Gilbert finds himself sitting at a little table drinking tea with Arthur, who happens to be criticizing his every move. To say he was uncomfortable would be an understatement.

Arthur happened to be enjoying himself.

"You're an idiot, Beilschmidt."


	3. Installment 3

Stitch.

Stitch.

Gilbert could feel his eyes drooping. Of all the things that Arthur Kirkland could be doing, he just had to be working on his embroidery. The albino had tried to be conversational with the man, but then Arthur had said, without even looking up, "Beilschmidt unless you want this needle in your eye I would highly suggest for you to be silent."

He could just leave, but he didn't want to- this wasn't over. Probably. Maybe he was just bored. Either way he was staying here. Now if only he could stay awake.

Arthur happened to be silently amused by the man struggling to stay awake next to him. It was beyond him how Beilschmidt could possibly sleep any more when he was sure the man spent at least half the day doing such. Nevertheless, watching the man nearly nod off every few moments was particularly humorous, though he wouldn't show he saw it that way.

Stitch.

Stitch.

It turned out that Gilbert was fighting a losing battle, as he was soon asleep with his head resting on the other man's shoulder. As the German's breaths evened out, Arthur paused in his work to regard the man and roll his eyes. At least Beilschmidt was a lot less irritating when he was sleeping and not making a nuisance of himself.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Sigh.

"You're an idiot, Beilschmidt."


End file.
